I don't care.... Look here, you make a diversion so that I can get hold of her.
MABEL.
How?
JOHN.
[_Dryly._] I don't know. Exercise your invention.
MABEL.
[_Going towards the others._] Hilda, John is clamouring for some tea.
HILDA.
[_Coming down._] Why on earth can't he help himself?
JOHN.
My native modesty prevents.
HILDA.
That's quite a new trait in you.
[HILDA _sits down and pours out tea for_ JOHN.
_He looks at her silently._
HILDA.
You've been lunching at Richmond?
JOHN.
Yes.... Then I went on to Putney.
HILDA.
You've been making quite a day of it.
JOHN.
[_Taking the cup._] I say, old gal--you're not going to make a fool of yourself, are you?
HILDA.
[_Opening her eyes._] Oh, I hope not. Why?
JOHN.
I thought it might have slipped your memory that Basil was married about a year ago.
HILDA.
[_Freezing._] What on earth d'you mean? [_Calling_] Mabel.
JOHN.
One moment.... You can give me a little conversation, can't you?
HILDA.
I'm afraid you're going to bore me.
JOHN.
[_Good-humouredly._] I assure you I'm not.... Isn't Basil here rather often?
HILDA.
I wonder you haven't learnt to mind your own business, John.
JOHN.
Don't you think it's rather rough on that poor little woman in Putney?
HILDA.
[_With a suspicion of contempt._] I went down to see her. I thought she was vulgar and pretentious. I'm afraid I can't arouse any interest in her.
JOHN.
[_Gently._] She may be vulgar, but she told me her love was like music in her heart. Don't you think she must have suffered awfully to get hold of a thought like that?
HILDA.
[_After a pause, changing suddenly both voice and manner._] And d'you think I've not suffered, John? I'm so unhappy.
JOHN.
Do you really care for him?
HILDA.
[_In a low voice hoarse with passion._] No, I don't care for him. I worship the very ground he treads on.
JOHN.